Bzzrrt: A Tale of Life, Death, and Sweetie Belle
by Twenty-two Sevenths
Summary: Sweetie Belle finds out what her special talent is. She is quite displeased with the results. One might even say she's mortified. Meanwhile, a different pony is working on Equestria's first gun.
1. Chapter 1

It was a beautiful day in Ponyville- of course, when isn't it? As per usual, the sun was shining (thanks to Celestia), the grass was green (thanks to constant maintenance done by several earth ponies), and there wasn't a cloud in the sky (thanks to the Weather Team of pegasi).

And, seeing as how it was the 2nd Thursday of the month, a group of three fillies were out doting some type of thing in an attempt to gain their cutie marks.

"Scootaloo, are ya _sure_ that this contraption-"

"Of course I am, Apple Bloom! I already tested it, like, a bazillion times!"

"Okay... uh, how many is a bazillion?"

The orange pegasus stopped in thought. "More than twice!"

"Oh boy..."

"Ready, Sweetie Belle?"

"Ready, Scootaloo!"

"Pull!"

Sweetie Belle grasped the lever in her two front hooves and puled back. The catapult went into action, throwing out Apple Bloom a good five feet before she fell to the ground, and it fell apart.

"_Ah du fi atapu akin is uh ooer-heshul talon,_" said Apple Bloom, her face in the ground.

"What?"

She pried her face out of the mud. "Ah said, 'Ah don' think catapult-makin' is our super-special talent'."

"Agreed," the other two said in unison.

* * *

"So, Sweetie Belle, any luck today?" asked Rarity. _No_, she thought.

"No," Sweetie Belle said, as predicted.

By now, this was routine. On the second Thursday of every month, and then every day after that, the Cutie Mark Crusaders would either do some volunteer work- despite the complaints of the ponies they were "helping"- or find some sort of way to gain their cutie marks. On at least on of these occasions, usually around Day Twelve, something absolutely catastrophic would happen, and then they would fix it, and then someone, usually Rarity, Applejack, or Twilight, would step in and give a small lecture about how you can't rush these things. Despite this, they would keep on doing it for the rest of he month, before taking a small break. Bless them, they tried so hard, but never got their cutie marks.

Of course, one day, it would happen- it happened to everypony- but it most likely wouldn't happen due to their antics.

Of course, sometimes, it _did_ take longer for some ponies than with others...

* * *

Take, for instance, Hot Shot, who was currently living in his carriage. It's not that he was homeless or anything. Well, technically, at the moment he _was_. But, he was moving to Ponyville, and was currently several miles from civilization.

At age 17, he had dropped out of school without a cutie mark, feeling that it would not be necessary if _everyone_ got their cutie mark _sometime. _If this was the case, why not just wander around Equestria until you get it?

So, he and a few other colts and mares did just that, the most notable- for the purposes of the story, at least- being his little brother, left Sunny Town and went out into the wide open world.

At age 18, he had almost achieved his goal.

He was currently inside the carriage, which was surprisingly spacious. This was due to several loopholes that were found in the laws of reality, some clever manipulation of the fourth dimension, and some other science-y stuff. Basically, unicorn magic.

Regardless of why the carriage was big enough to hold a large workshop in it, he was almost done with an ingenious invention that would surely revolutionize the Canterlotian Army, nay (no pun intended), the _Equestrian_ Army.

It was a long, thin, metal barrel, essentially. It also had some other stuff attached to it, most notably, a lever-like device near the back. There was a small sliding-door in the back, in which you put small, metal objects in it. Said metal objects were made of gold- it had special supernatural properties, he was told.

He called it the Golden Unicorn Noisemaker because, well, it was loud.

For short, it was the G.U.N. And it was almost done.

* * *

However, this innovation was taking place in the forest. Life in Ponyville kept on going as if nothing happened.

More specifically, Sweetie Belle's life kept going on. For reasons she couldn't quite explain, she was extremely upset and furious at the failure today. Maybe it was just because she was tired. Maybe it was because she was convinced that after catapult-building, there was pretty much nothing left. Well, nothing _useful_ left.

And maybe it was because, at the moment, her room was a shrine to her failures. There was a pile of scraps on her desk that was supposed to be a model log-cabin (Cutie Mark Crusaders Architects! Yay!), a pile of ashes on the floor that was supposed to be vitamin water (Cutie Mark Crusaders Mixologists! Y-yay.), and a box of weeds and dust that was supposed to be a flower (Cutie Mark Crusaders Gardeners. Yaaaaaay).

Angrily, the filly dragged a chair over to her window and looked down upon the city and her plant. What contrast it was! One was full of life and happiness because of all the efforts put forward by the citizens. The other was full of life and happiness because the death of the main source of life.

"It's not fair!" said Sweetie Belle, her voice cracking.

* * *

"It's almost done!" said Hot Shot, his voice cracking.

* * *

"Sweet Celestia, things _never_ go my way!"

* * *

"Sweet Celestia, everything's coming up Hot Shot!"

* * *

Sweetie Belle laid her head in the black powder that was her flower, her special flower that she grew herself. She put her hooves to her temples.

* * *

Hot Shot leaned in and poured the black powder int the G.U.N., the special G.U.N. that he made himself. He put his hooves to the trigger.

* * *

Sweetie Belle sobbed in despair.

* * *

Hot Shot sobbed in sheer joy.

* * *

Sparks flew.

* * *

Sparks flew.

* * *

_BZZRRT!_

* * *

_BANG!_


	2. Chapter 2

Sweetie Belle sat up in shock. She then fell out of her chair, also in shock. Did... did she just do magic? No, of course not. That would be ridiculous. She must have been day-dreaming.

She went back to her chair. She looked back down, down at the town, down at the perfectly... healthy... bright orange... flower.

Huh?

No, no, no, of course not, that would be ridiculous. There _had_ to be another explanation as to why the flower was sitting upon her windowsill. Perhaps some other pony misfired a spell, and it ended up hitting her flower instead. Perhaps when she fell off the chair she was knocked unconscious, and this was all just a dream. Perhaps it was, ah, er, um, goblins. Yes, goblins. That was definitely it. Because it would be absolutely _absurd_ for her to have done magic.

Either way, she sat back down on the stool. She looked down upon the city. Even from up here, she could see that the garden outside wasn't doing so good...

It was obvious that Sweetie Belle didn't use her magic to bring the flower back to life. And it was obvious that she couldn't even do magic.

But, just in case, she went outside to try it again.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Everfree Forest, Hot Shot's little brother, Black Clover, was playing. Or, at least, he was _trying_ to play. For all of the hype about the Everfree Forest, about how monsters and savage beasts were everywhere, about how supernatural forces ran wild, about how there was a mystical shaman from faraway lands within it, it was actually kind of boring. Clover was just throwing rocks at a tree at the moment. He had a sort of points system for throwing he rocks. If it lands above that branch, it's a point. If it lands above _that_ branch, it's two points. If it lands above _that_ branch, it's three points. If it lands above _that_ branch, it's four points, etc. And if it goes over the tree, you can be done with this stupid game and oh sweet Celestia why is this place so boring?

He was currently up to 1379 points when he did notice that something was odd. Mainly, a small golden raindrop-cigar-ball-thingy flew outside of the carriage he was living in. It was a very _loud_ golden raindrop-cigar-ball-thingy. He ran inside to see what happened and if his big brother was okay.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asked.

Hot Shot was quivering. A single tear rolled down the side of his face.

"Yes, of course I am, buddy."

"Well, what happened? What did you do?"

"I just changed history," he said, laughing and crying at the same time.

* * *

Sweetie Belle rushed back into the house!

"Rarityrarityrarityrarityrait y!" she exclaimed.

"What is it, darling?" she replied.

"Guess what? I'm a vulture whore-ist!"

She dropped the glass the she had suspended in midair using her magic.

"Do you remind repeating that again, sweetie?"

"I'm a vulture whore-ist! I was just outside in the-"

Rarity wasn't listening. She currently had a picture of a vulture doing unpleasant things to her sister, who was wearing a pink boa and copious amounts of makeup burnt into her mind.

"-and then I-"

"Yes, yes, of course you did, now please explain to me what you did to become a... a... v-v-vulture whore?" she asked, her pure-white body somehow turning pale.

"Well, I was out in the garden, and, well, first I was up in my bedroom, and I got, like, really-super-frustrated, and then I did magic, and then that dead flower that I keep on my windowsill for some reason came back to life, and at first I thought I didn't actually do it, but then I went outside and brought some of the dead plants in the garden back to life,and that's how I became a vulture whore-ist!" She beamed, proudly.

Rarity sat there in ponderous silence, moving her lips as if she was talking, though no sound came out. After a while, she realized exactly what Sweetie Belle was trying to say.

"By chance, darling, would you mean horticulturist?"

"Ohhhhh, that's what it's called! Haha, I thought it was vul-"

"Haha, no, never say that ever again, please."

It was at this point that Rarity realized what all of this meant.

"Wait, _you did magic_?! Sweetie Belle, that's amazing! Oh, I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed, pulling her in for a hug. "Oh, tell me, did you get your cutie mark? What was it? Did you get it? Ohhh, I hope it isn't something tacky like a cornstalk or something! What _is_ it, the suspense is killing me!"

They both glanced at her flank in excitement to see...

Nothing. She was still a blank flank.

Sweetie Belle's lipped quivered, and tears began to form in her eyes.

"Oh, no, no, don't cry, darling! Sometimes you just have to do it a few times before you get it!"

And without saying anything, Sweetie Belle instantly became happy again, and dashed out the door to Sweet Apple farms.

* * *

**MEANWHILE, IN THE SPACE BETWEEN SPACES, THE EXISTENTIAL VOID...**

A table sits in a dimly lit room. At the table sit those who control everything. They have not all gathered here together for a long time. However, within the past few days, there have been many odd occurrences that did not fit into Their plans. And the first words said at the table, the first words that would eventually bring an end to the universe were...

"Hey, baby, if I said you had a beautiful body... would you hold it against me?"

This was uttered by the being known as Darkness. The response to this was the being known as Eris dumping the hot contents of her coffee of mug onto Darkness' lap. In turn, this was replied to with a yelp of pain.

SILENCE, the being at the head of the table bellowed. It has come to my attention that not everything has gone according to The Plan.

"Well, sir," said Gaia, "There have been thousands of things that weren't on the schedule, but not all of them were bad!"

True, true. However, this one is... different. The Meddler is tampering with forces that she does not know of. And this must be stopped.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why?" asked Chronos. "From what I can tell, this won't cause the End Times."

A chuckle filled the room. Yes, Chronos. This is because you can only see what is on the schedule. However, I can see all. And what I see is the End Times. And to ensure that the End Times do not occur...

An hourglass appeared beside him. Well, it didn't really appear as much as it had appeared in the past, so it was always next to him. The hourglass itself was massive, too big to logically fit into the room. But then again, what was logic in an Existential Void? It had about a week's worth of sand in the top, and an infinite amount in the bottom.

The Meddler must... be removed, finished the being.


End file.
